Breakaway
by Frenzied Conception
Summary: In a world where isolation is the only option...Summary Inside! This is a RoguexQuicksilver pairing. Check it out and comment if you like, dislike, etc.
1. Since You Been Gone

**Breakaway**

**Summary: **Rogue is a loner, she always has been and always will be…or so she thinks. In a world were human contact has never been truly attainable; one boy may be able to breach the cold surface that is the Rogue. But will his touch be able to help her _breakaway_ from the isolation her life has become or it will spiral her into a deeper kind of insanity?

_In some situations you __**can**__ miss what you never had…but sometimes, having it for a little while and getting it taken away is much worse._

"_How can I put it, you put me on_

_I even fell for that stupid love song"_

_-Kelly Clarkson_

"I'm sorry Rogue…it's just-"

"Yah don't hafta say it Scott." I abruptly cut him off; wisps of white hair shadowed my face from his view. "It's fine."

"I didn't mean to make you feel I was interested!" he hurried to explain.

"Yeah, Ah was dumb. Fahget it," I answered, coldly.

_It's just…you never seemed to hesitate to talk to me or include me. You always invited me, even when no one else wanted me around. You even held my hand that one time…and even though I could only feel you through faux animal skin, it felt…Amazing._

He looked momentarily regretful, before hesitantly reaching out to touch my clothed shoulder. "You know I'll always be here for you, don't you?"

"It's okay Scott. Ah can look out for mahself, like Ah've always done." I replied firmly, stepping just out of his reach. His hand fell limply at his side, and he gave me a pleading look, laced with sympathy.

_I don't need his pity._

"You don't have to be alone Rogue!" he said, warm compassion lacing his tone.

_And I almost believed him but…_

"Get lost, _Summers._" I patronized. He gave me a hurt look, but I didn't care. He had hurt me too.

"Is…that how you want it?" he asked. "It doesn't have to be this way! We can still be friends! I want to be your friend!"

"Ah don't need yah friendship." I spat, "Or yah pity. Just leave and go back to Ms. Perfect."

_We both know that's what you really want to do._

"When you're ready Rogue…just come and talk to me - about anything. I'll always be here, even if you don't want me."

_But God…do I want you._

I gave him a hard stare, "Get. Out."

Then he walked out of my room, taking with him all my fantasies of romance…hope…peace.

**Chapter 1** – _Since You Been Gone_

It's exactly a month from the day that Scott Summers, resident Good Guy Hottie walked out of my life for good. I'm not going to lie; it's been a little awkward…even for me. But I like to think that I handle the situation pretty well for someone who's forced to live with their past love interest, who's dating another girl…who also happens to lives with you. For example, just this morning:

::Flashback::

I was sitting in the kitchen, casually eating the grits I had just finished making about oh …two or three minutes ago, when Scott and Evan walked in. Now mind you, I don't particularly take to either of them really. Evans a little bit obnoxious and Scott…well you know the deal with him.

"Last night's game! Travis's play-" Scott raved excitedly to Evan. They both had walked into the kitchen and begun to prepare their own breakfast at the counter, my existence seemingly nonexistent.

"Oh yeah man, I know. Beau-ti-ful!" Evan shouted, brandishing cutlery. Friday night football…I **hate** you so.

"And those halftime girls," Evan whistled, "I wouldn't mind taking one of those girls out."

Scott grinned impishly, (now that's an adjective I never thought I'd use describing him. But I guess even the most levelheaded guys are a perverts at heart).

"I know what you mean," he agreed, "Curves in all the right places." He continued, making an hourglass shape with his hands. I thought that would be the perfect opportunity to join the conversation.

"Yah sure _Miss Thing_ would like yah talkin' about otha women like that Summers?" I asked from the table. They both jumped in their places and stared at me. Yes boys, someone else _is_ in the kitchen.

"Ro-Rogue?" Scott stuttered. I smirked inwardly. The one good thing about Scott rejecting me is how off kilter he gets every time I enter a room.

"Sco-Scott," I mocked back at him. He flushed a little, and Evan just looked annoyed.

"Man this is bogus," he said, "You two are ridiculous, just get a room or something." I covered up the pink hue tinting my cheeks by flipping Evan off as he walked out of the Kitchen.

Scott stood where he was for a minute; he looked like he was trying to decide on whether or not he should follow Evan or take a seat next to me.

I made the decision for him. "By all means, Leave," I replied, nastily.

"No, no!" he exclaimed hastily, "I was planning on sitting."

_Yeah right. More like planning your escape._

"With lil ol' me? Why thankya Scott," I said, batting my eyelashes sarcastically. Let the awkwardness ensue…

He sat, placing his bowl of cereal down nervously and spilling a little on the table. "Oh jeez," he said sounding a little aggravated, "Can you pass a napkin?"

"Get it yahself, Ah'm done here." I replied, putting my plate in the sink and walking away.

::End Flashback::

Now if you didn't know…what happened there is what I'd like to call progress. Because you see, a little over a week ago I wasn't even speaking to him.

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**Late Afternoon. **

"Ah hate Saturdays. "

"That's because you have absolutely No Social Life," Kitty told me as she dug through our shared closet, "You need to like, get out more."

I sat on my bed, not very impressed with her solution to my aversion to Saturdays. "Ah'm not allowed to have a social life," I grunted.

"That's because YOU don't allow yourself to have one." She intoned, before pulling out a sky blue strapless dress.

"Does this say 'Take me out for a night on the town' or 'Hi, I'm a slutty hoe hoe'?" she asked me. I rolled my eyes. Why was I even trying to talk to her when she was in 'date' mode?

"The hoe one," I answered, distastefully. And then I said, "Don't yah have anything that's longer than mid thigh?"

Kitty looked confused for a minute, like the idea of buying an outfit that didn't reveal your privates to the world never occurred to her. "Um…do you?" she asked me.

"Ah don't allow mahself to have a social life, remembah?" I replied sarcastically.

Kitty pouted for a bit, and I took pity on her ONLY because she would annoy the hell out of me if I didn't at least try to help. Definitely not because she, and her bubblehead personality, may have grown on me in any way, shape, or form.

"How 'bout this," I say, rummaging through my drawer and pulling out a crumpled purple top.

"Rogue that's so…icksome!" Kitty squealed, "We have to take you shopping! If I wasn't like going out with Alex tonight I would so _totally_ make you go now!"

_Yeah, like I'd ever take her up on that offer anyway._

I rolled my eyes, "How'd ya even work that out Kat?" I asked her, "The boy's only here on a three day weekend. He's supposed to be visiting his **brother**, remembah? Not chasin' skirts."

"We've been, like, IMing since the last time he came over here!" Kitty answered, obviously thrilled with herself.

"Three months ago?" I asked, with a raised eyebrow. I feel a headache coming on.

"Mhm," Kitty sighed dreamily, "Isn't he like totally great?"

"As great as yah can be when yah related to a Summers, Ah guess," I answered sullenly.

Kitty's eyes suddenly brightened with an apologetic look. "Look Rogue, I know that you are, like, donzo with Scott, and you're, like, so not over it yet. And I'd totes be willing to not go tonight if it bothers you that-"

I cut her off sharply, "JUST…have fun." I said, my tone softening at the end. "One of us has too."

Kitty gave me one of those annoyingly supportive smiles, and pulled out the blue dress she had been looking at earlier. "So…are you sure this looks like slutty hoe hoe? Because I always thought it had an elegant feel to it." she said.

I cracked a smile…and for a little while, the world didn't seem as crappy.

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Early morning walks are what I live for. And I'm not talking six or seven; I'm talking two or three in the morning. …More three than two, really, because two is often unexpected drunken traffic hour while three is almost indefinitely, party kid bedtime. If you're not home, you're sleeping over, especially on a Saturday night.

So you see when I have the itch to feel average, a privilege I _never_ get during regular daytime hours, I like to take a stroll out of the safety of the Xavier Institute and into the realm of "normalcy". During this brief stroll (which I usually take two, max three times a month), I like to pretend I'm just an everyday person. And that my poisoned skin, is just like every other person's skin…touchable.

Basically meaning, I wear something of Kitty's that's usually kind of whorish, and pretend like I'm in a busy city, constantly bumping into people with no affect on them what so ever or something like that. …I know it's a little crazy, but I can't help it.

This morning, it's a bit chilly because fall's getting into its groove, and the weathers taking a turn for the worse. So instead of wearing one of Kitty's many summer skirts and tank tops, I have a pair of my own ripped jeans on, along with a dark brown, short sleeved, cropped top of Kitty's. Just the fact that she even owns a neutral color in her closet amazes me.

In every walk I like to put myself in a zone. I turned my Ipod on and flipped to a good country song I'd heard a while back, one of the rare genre's in my collection. The music's really what allows me to relax during these walks so completely. But really, maybe I get too immersed because, just five minutes later, I'm on the ground.

"Ugh! What the fuck did I bump into?" I hear, but I really don't want to open my eyes and see the person who's caught me with no makeup on and ripped jeans, so I keep them shut tight in "fake" pain.

It was only until after, he or she got up (and I'm guessing it's a boy by the sound of the voice and the feel of "his" body), that I realized he'd been touching my bare arms with his bare hands…and I didn't felt a pull. I opened my eyes in shock, but the person was gone. I felt a little shaken, but I resolved myself to finish my walk. Strangely it seemed to take half the time it normally did after the incident…Now what does that mean?

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A " New" Day (Sunday)

I'm basically a wreck. After my walk finished at an abnormally fast pace 'last night', it was like I had ADHD. I washed up in record time, couldn't fall asleep for the life of me, and went out to run laps around the track about thirty times just to get rid of all the extra zest I felt. Than just as abruptly as my extra burst of energy had appeared, it disappeared. I'm telling you it just drained out of me. It was the weirdest feeling…and all of a sudden I was just exhausted. I'm pretty sure I would've passed out but I wouldn't allow myself to, and I managed to drag myself all the way back into the house and up to my shared bedroom with Kitty.

Two minutes later the alarm went off. Holy crap, this day's going to suck.

"Rogue, like, get up!" I heard Kitty's muffled voice say from her bed, "And turn off that alarm!"

Amen to that, Kat, but I'm not moving. We both laid in silence and absorbed the ringing until Kitty got too annoyed and huffing got off her bed and crossed the room, slamming her fist down on the buzzer.

"Ugh, like no more late night movies," she whined, "I can't like stand the hours in this freaking place! "

"Six in the morning and this is our late day!" she continued, "People aren't even in church at this hour!"

Through all my exhaustion I cracked a smile. What can I say, misery LOVES company, and Kitty was definitely miserable right now.

"Chill Kat," I said through the huddle of my blankets, "Get ready or we'll be late for the 'Danger Room'."

"You should talk," Kitty grumbled, "You're not even out of bed yet."

Hmm…true point.

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**The Danger Room **

We headed for our session late that day…basically because of me and my lethargic state. Needless to say Kitty was freaking out, her being Miss Punctual and all.

"Like, ugh! Rogue what is up with you?!" Kitty asked in a hassled tone. Her hair was mussed, and her face flushed from dragging me down the hall with her as she speed walked.

"Ah didn't get much sleep," I muttered, trying to get free from her iron grip. All I have to say is, she is just lucky that I'm wearing my uniform because if I wasn't I would've just drained her in the hallway and went back to bed.

"When do you ever!" Kitty snapped, "I can't be late!" she exclaimed, more to herself than to me.

"Oh…but yah are," I replied, grinning maliciously.

Kitty turned around to reply when she ungraciously smashed into the Danger Room door. Scott opened it in a flourish.

"Nice of you to finally join us," he said, authoritatively, while gesturing us inside. _Ugh, I hate when he gets all control freak on us._

Kitty and I walked in quietly, our eyes averted from Scotts condescending gaze. I'm ashamed to say it but sometimes Scott really does seem intimidating when he gets into his "leader" mode.

The X team was assembled in a straight rigid line, choreographed by none other than Scott himself, of course. Most of the younger kids looked bored and tired, while the veterans just looked a little annoyed. At the far end of the line, Alex waved us over. I walked over reluctantly, while Kitty practically pranced to the spot next to him.

He winked at her and she blushed. …I just sighed.

"You haven't missed anything," Alex whispered, "King Scott was just lecturing us on Danger Room safety."

Kitty giggled and I suppressed my would-be smile into a grimace. What can I say? I just don't like interacting with people.

"Alex!" Scott yelled, making the three of us jump. "Care to explain what I just said?"

Alex rolled his eyes, "Chill Scott, I was just-"

"Just not paying attention," Scott reprimanded, shaking his head in disappointment. He was about to say more when Jean coughed, getting his attention.

"Maybe you should just start the simulator?" she suggested with a smile. I looked her over in disgust. _What a whore_.

**Post Danger Room Session**

I'm sweaty and I hate being sweaty, so I'm trying to beat Kitty to the shower, which is basically impossible. Her powers always beat me out and it sucks. One day, I'll tap her and give her a taste of her own medicine. Today obviously isn't that day because I'm at the bathroom door and the shower is definitely running. _Big sigh. _Kitty's showers last a decade at the least.

It still amazes me that after all this time of having a roommate she's still so inconsiderate. I mean, I wouldn't mind if she showered first every time if I could at least get five minutes of warm water.

But anyway, I know today's not going to be any different so I think I'll just change into my bath robe and wait it out, as usual.

It was about twenty-five minutes into Kitty's shower when there was a knock at our bedroom door. "Come in," I said softly…but obviously not softly enough because Alex opened the door.

"She's in the shower," I said, before he could ask.

He gave me an embarrassed look and asked, "Is she coming out soon?"

"Beats me," I answered, not even bothering to look up from my book this time.

"Well how long has she been in there? So I can estimate." He asked, walking further into the room. Now who told him he could do that?

I shrugged, not bothering with a real answer.

Alex gave a sigh of annoyance and sat on Kitty's bed, across from me. "Because I'm leaving in a couple hours and we're going out." He attempted to explain.

"Good for you," I replied, flipping the page.

"When did she go in?" He prodded. Okay now this was just getting annoying.

"Shouldn't yah be licking Scott's boots or something?" I hissed through clenched teeth.

Alex gave me an offended look. "I'll make sure to do that on our _double_ date." He answered sarcastically.

I had nothing to say to that because well…Kitty hadn't even told me she was going on a double date with Alex and his brother…who's was undoubtedly taking Jean.

"I would invite you," Alex continued angrily, "But I don't think I could find a date for a stuck up, rigid witch!"

I went to strangle him but the bathroom door flew open just as I dropped my book and Kitty stepped out with nothing but a towel on. "Ah! Alex!" she screeched, covering herself for absolutely no reason. Let's be serious, that towel covers more of her than the dress she wore yesterday.

"Kitty?" He said, turning around confused.

"Ah! Don't look! Get out, get out, get out!" she screeched, hustling him out the door. "I told you I would call!"

"Yeah, but you were taking forever!" he complained as she pushed him out.

"That's because I'm a girl!" Kitty protested, slamming the door shut. "Men!" she said. Then she caught my expression.

"Double date, huh?" I asked her, attempting to sound casual. And I didn't know why but for some reason I felt a little betrayed that she was hanging out with Scott, even after what had happened.

"Look," Kitty rushed to explain, "Alex just told me about it after, like, the session. I had no idea Scott was going at all!"

"Whatever," I replied, "Ah don't expect yah not to go, so relax. Besides, Ah can't get mad. It's not like yah have loyalty to mah." I continued coldly, "We're not even friends."

Kitty's expression darkened at my statement and she turned her back to me. We were both fuming at each other while she got ready for her 'date'. But as she walked out the door in a cutesy floral top and blue jean mini skirt, I just felt depressed.

Kitty had Alex…Jean got Scott…and me? …well let's talk about what I haven't got because than at least I'd know what to say.

**End Chapter.**

In the Next chapter (**Chapter 2** – _What's Up Lonely?)_, Pietro will be introduced into the story.

Thank-you all so much for reading my first chapter! Please review to get my writing juices flowing for chapter 2!


	2. What's Up Lonely?

**Chapter 2** – _What's up Lonely?_

_Tell me heartache, what's it gonna take…_

_For you to leave me alone today?_

It's Monday. I think I've said enough.

My weekend was so horrible that I didn't even go for an early morning walk, and it seems that my bad mood has transferred over to the worst day of the week. Oh joy.

Scott's got the carpool waiting outside, and I feel a little nostalgic walking past it. Before our 'fall out' I always used to go with him, Jean, Evan, and Forge. Now I'm partial to the idea of begging Logan for a ride. But seeing as he's gone (as usual), I think I'll just walk.

Kitty passed by me without saying a word, so I'm guessing she's still mad at me for saying she's not my friend. Which is fine, because she isn't. I don't have any friends. She gets into Scott's car and I watch it pull past me, catching a snip of laughter as they leave the drive way. _Fuck them._

**At School**

I hate being late to school…which almost always happens when I walk, because I'm too reluctant to get up at an earlier time. The thing that annoys me the most is that the late person always gets stared at and I prefer to be inconspicuous, but seeing as I've completely missed homeroom…that's probably not an option today.

Walking in I'm not surprised to see Alvers and his loser clique slumming on the side walls of the main building. I remember doing that many a time with them before joining the X-men. Tolansky is kicking an empty soda can repeatedly against the coarse brick wall and I'm feeling slightly reminiscent. Still, no regrets I guess. I can't remember ever feeling happy in the Brotherhood, but then again, I'm not very thrilled with the Institute at the moment either. Right now, I'm going to attempt to slip through the doors at the far right of the building…hopefully they won't notice me.

"Hey, Roguey!" Todd called out to me, as the empty soda can hits my foot_. Damn it._

"What do yah want?" I answered crossly, still heading for the door. I'm really not in the mood for any of this bull today.

"Whatcha doin' coming in so late?" Todd asked. There's a mischievous glint in his eye just waiting to be crushed. At this point Alvers and Dukes are looking over at me too. Lance smirks, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against and steps toward me.

"Yeah," he said to me, "Isn't Summer's going to skewer you if he sees you coming in so late?" I'd recognize the look in his eye anywhere; trouble was brewing.

"Screw Summers." I spat, rather vehemently I might add, because all three boys stepped back in surprise.

Lance gave a low whistle, "Now that's a girl holding a grudge." He snickered. I did the best I could to quell my temper and opened the door.

"Whatever." I replied, in a very Kitty-ish manner. I walked through the doors without looking back, relieved that I had somewhat avoided a confrontation with my old clique. Ever since leaving the Brotherhood none of them have been thrilled with me, but I still know that they give me leeway here and there. Most kids don't make it through those doors, after hours, without incident. It always bothered me that the school never did anything to prevent their loitering. But I guess that's none of my business.

I made it to my first class in time to get the fifteen minute pop quiz my pre-calc teacher was handing out and gave a weak excuse that earned me a, "I'll speak to you after class."

_After Pre-Calculus_

"You're failing." Mrs. Calendar stated bluntly as I walked to the side of her desk. I saw a few of my lingering classmates try not the snicker as they gathered their books.

"Ah know," I said intelligently. No point in making excuses if she's going to state the obvious like that.

Mrs. Calendar rubbed her temples with manicured nails, and leaned against her polished oak desk. Sighing with what I'll assume is a little disdain she said, "Do you really think that it's a good idea to show up forty minutes late if you are doing so poorly?"

I shrug my shoulders. Really I have no reason to care. When I first signed up for this class I knew I was going to fail it. Math has never, and will never, be my thing.

"Rogue," Mrs. Calendar replies, grimacing at my self-appointed name, "If you're struggling, I can get you a tutor."

"No thanks," I say, shuffling away from her desk. Mrs. Calendar straightens in her seat and gives me a pointed look with overly made up piercing brown eyes.

"Let me rephrase," she says, flipping a few loose strands of dirty blonde hair around her finger, "I got you a tutor."

_Holy shit, this day just got worse. _

"Excuse mah?" I answer, irritated. "Ah can bring mah grades up mahself."

"It's a little more than halfway through the quarter Rogue," Mrs. Calendar persists, "If you haven't figured out this class yet, maybe you just need someone else to teach you in a different way."

"Ah can get someone at home to," I lied, fidgeting where I stood.

"So you said three weeks ago, but your grades are continuing to decline," she points out.

I really have no response for that, so I just look away.

"It will only be for the remainder of the quarter, Rogue," Mrs. Calendar attempts, giving me a no nonsense look.

"That's a long time," I grumble, shooting her a nasty look.

"That's a month. You'll live." She states, pushing her chair back. "I got the Math Club vice to tutor you. Your sessions will start today. If I hear you skipped it, I'll give you detention. And believe me, whatever will be waiting for you in detention will be worse than any tutoring you'll receive. Is that clear?"

What can a girl do?

I just nod my head pathetically as she excuses me.

_Tutoring Session #1_

Okay, so not only do I have to get tutored by some math dork, but I also lose two of the five lunch periods I have during the week, which sucks. It's not that I enjoy being in a crowded cafeteria with people I _hate_, it's just that I resent the fact that I don't have the freedom to ditch the period how I want to anymore.

So now I'm heading to the math department with a Styrofoam holder of chicken fingers in one hand, a medium sized paper cup of water in the next, and a textbook tucked under my arms. Oh joy.

I did not really know who to expect on the other side of the door when I first pushed it open, but the total surprise of whom it actually was, made the books slip from under my arm with a smack.

"Rogue?" Pietro grins, his surprise transitioning to smugness rather quickly. _God must hate me._

"Maximoff." I say curtly, putting my food on an empty desk.

"You're the one who needs tutoring?" he laughs, pushing a hand through sickeningly sleek white hair.

I don't answer him. Instead I go and pick up my textbook, which is lying upside down on the ground. When I turn around, Pietro is sitting in a more relaxed position and looking considerably less studious than before.

"I would've never taken you for a dummy," he jibes, and unfortunately I react. Glaring at him, and playing with a glove. But we both know I'll never catch him, so it's pointless.

"Let's just get this over with," I grumble, tucking a few loose strands of white hair behind my ear, and placing the books on a desk.

"Hells no," Pietro replies, smirking like the devil. "It's not every day an X-geek falls into my lap like this. I want to savor this moment," he finishes, as he pushes the books I just placed on the desk, off.

I sigh. "Savoir all yah want," I say, sitting down in the desk parallel to him. "Ah'm gonna eat."

Pietro scoffs as I place my chicken fingers on the desk and begin to nibble at the tips. "I remember you being more fun," he says, flicking his pen across the room.

In a flash it's back in his hands and he's munching on the chicken finger I JUST hand in my hand.

The rest of the tutoring session continued like that, a nonstop battle of wits, words, and chicken fingers, with little to no reviewing.

**The Institute**

After my completely unproductive and frustrating tutoring session with Pietro, the rest of the school day passed exceedingly slow and uneventful. I feel as though my existence is unnecessary in this world. My life at this point has absolutely no purpose and I am positive that if I was to die anytime between today and tomorrow I would not be missed by _anyone._

That thought becomes more prominent while I slink quietly past the front doors of the foyer, unnoticed. It's a quarter to four and everyone else most likely arrived half past or sooner. But since I have no one to hitch a ride with, no relatives to buy me a car, and no money to get a car for myself…I walk, and so I always, always, ALWAYS get there later.

As per usual no one really notices me entering, though a few people glance up just as I shut the door. Still, no one says anything to me as I walk down the newly re-polished wood floors of the institute.

This squeaky clean and sterile environment makes me sick sometimes. I live in an exasperatingly quaint surrounding which consists of perfectly spaced and symmetrical themed pictures which hang annoyingly straight on a nauseatingly tasteful rustic brown and yellow wall.

The narrow strip of carpet I walk on now, has no wrinkles, no bumps, and no stains…how is that even possible with several new recruits vomiting up every last bit of power they have all over the place? And some of those mutations are messy…

All consideration of zoning out in the lounge for a couple of hours to avoid dealing with Kitty and her infamous webcam parties quickly vanishes from my head. The reason? Scott and Jean are macking on the couch like they haven't had a decent meal in months.

For a moment I feel my heart drop but I shake it off. Still, I can't resist the temptation to embarrass them.

"Guess Ah won't be studying in here," I say, as I cross my arms, disapprovingly. Jean and Scott jump apart spastically, and I take in their rumpled appearances.

Jean's hair, which is usually combed, parted, and basically flawless, is currently perfectly unkempt. And her previously pressed button down blue and white pinstripe shirt is partially unbuttoned and wrinkled, showing a bit of cleavage and a not so subtle hot pink bra.

Scott on the other hand looks slightly more presentable. His brown hair is just slightly mussed, and his clothes seem to be on straight…though I do notice that the top button and zipper on his jeans are undone. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what was about to happen here.

"Rogue," Scott squeaks, shuffling away from Jean, and pressing himself more deeply into the leather couch. _She didn't try to rape you Scotty, the couch is just as offended as me. _

"Scott," I say, with a bit of attitude I might add. We stare at each other for a moment, but I only see my reflection against his shaded eyes. I sometimes wonder what I would see if I could look at the emotions sheltered back there. I've heard that the eyes are the window to the soul. Do his eyes miss me? Or do they just want me to go away?

"Rogue," Jean says, more commanding than Scott, breaking the moment. I glance at her.

"What?" I ask crossly. It's annoying to find that she already looks perfect again. Her once messy hair is slicked back into a tight ponytail and her clothes buttoned and straight.

Jean smiles at me sympathetically, as if Scott told her something she has no right to know. I _hate_ him so much.

"We're really sorry," she apologizes, crossing her legs and patting the side of the couch to bring Scott back.

_Yea doggy, go back to your master. _

I can't believe I ever liked such a piece of shit, honestly.

He shuffles over obediently, and she puts a hand on his thigh. "Usually no one comes in here right now and Scott's not allowed in my room…" Jean explains. As if an explanation could make me sympathize with them.

I scoff, "Huh, fah good reason Ah can see." I say, "Ah have right to tell the professah!" This time they both shift uncomfortably.

"Ah am nevah gonna sit on that couch again," I continue mercilessly, attempting to get the full extent of my disgust across to them.

God, why am I so petty? To be honest that couch has probably been through ten times worse than what I've just witnessed and I've slept on it, eaten food off it, and even accidentally licked it once.

"How can I make it up to you?" Scott asked, frowning in embarrassment. He's always so eager to please. Jean nudges him and they share a sideways glance. No words were passed but they were obviously communicating. I'd get jealous but Jean's a telepath so moments like that mean nothing.

The 'conversation' ends with Scott looking away and Jean giving me another one of her politically nice smiles. You know the type: FAKE to the core.

"We really do apologize Rogue," Jean says, trying to appease, "It's just that when two people love each-"

I really don't know what she wanted to say because I've already left. I feel furious and I can't help but wonder… what brand of bitch _is _Jean?

…Who is she to think that I'm so socially retarded that I can't even comprehend the meaning and feelings of love?!

_Bedroom_

It isn't until I step through my bedroom door and hear flirtatious laughter that I realize that this is the last place I want to be.

Kitty is sitting cross-legged on the floor, gabbing away on her iChat to God knows who, in a heart-patterned top that is way too dressy for slumming in the institute. A cup of some type of Latte rests beside her, and I'm pretty sure it's Grande. God help me.

"Like, Gawd Alex!" She squeals, not even glancing up as I fling off my right shoe. It lands next to a stack of untouched books under my brass bed.

Our room is a standard 14X16 institute bedroom size, a little larger than the average dorm. Our walls were left a pasty off-white unlike some of the other rooms, because Kitty and I are having an eternal argument over some pastel shit she wants, versus something a little bit more artistically moving.

Everybody's rooms have hardwood floors. They're made of some exotic type wood named teak, which is re-polished once a year. And we're all are given one large mirrored closet, a cheaply made IKEA dresser (equipped with six drawers to be split), and an impressive Victorian looking study desk, which Kitty uses as a vanity table…

Our beds are imported from Florence, which really means nothing to me because I have never and will never go there. And any other furniture brought in is the boarders' discretion.

For some kids the process of moving in and becoming comfortable is quite easy…I've been here for almost two years now and I still have three unpacked boxes.

"Ah, I miss you! Like sooooo much!" Kitty says, blowing a kiss at the screen. Just a quick glance is all I need to see Alex catch it in the air and hold it to his chest.

_Seriously?_

I placed my headphone's on and turned up the volume on my retro cd player. Nothing will really drown out Kitty when she's hyped up on caffeine and boys, but hopefully a little mellowing Kelly Clarkson will give me the strength to not shoot up this place and end my misery.

"_What's up lonely seems you're my only friend who wants to share my pain. Tell me heartache, what's it gonna take for you to leave me alone today?"_

**---3 A.M ---**

Lately I've been feeling the urge to exercise the freedom of my private walks more. Whether it's from the stress of daily living in the institute, or my overwhelmingly mundane existence, I'm not quite sure. Still I'm debating on whether or not I should really go… For some reason I've felt a little off my game lately, and this would be my second walk in a four day period. Figuring that I'm already awake, I move to get up.

My body rises in slow motion, and I feel more tired than I have in days. Hopefully I'm getting sick. No school and no Danger Room for a couple of days sound great.

Tip-toeing to the closet I pull out a short sleeved lavender dress. It's a little above knee length, and has a modest drop by the neckline. It's getting colder so I really shouldn't wear it, but my secret desire to get sick coupled with my desire to rebel on the normal restrictions of my life, makes me put it on.

Slinking to the window with shoes in my hand, I climb out the side of an ivory covered wall. I like to ignore how cliché this all looks. I vaguely remember how scared I was the first night I tried this, now I'm practically a pro.

The first wind to sweep across my exposed skin gives me an awesome chill that wakes me up a bit, and I take my first step down toward freedom.

---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*-

_Moments Later…_

"Fuck!" I hear from the ground. I'm pretty sure my forehead is bleeding and I'm flat on back gasping for air. My mind is flashing back to a similar scenario a couple nights ago and all I can think is: _Not this again_.

This time however, the collision is slightly more painful and the wind has been completely knocked out of me.

A hand grabs mine to help me up, but I'm seeing stars so I barely register the touch.

Now I'm back on my feet in a daze, and my eyes lock onto those of the blue-ish green eyes of my offender.

"Pietro?" I ask, squinting in the dark, as he simultaneously asks, "Are you okay?"

I'm not going to lie - I'm absolutely stunned. "What the hell are yah doing out here so late?"

"I could ask you the same," he smirks, eyes roaming over my body.

Crap…right. I forgot I have a dress on. And no makeup. And this is so weird right now because I'm almost positive he's checking me out.

I move to cover my body but his grip tightens on my hand. I feel the smooth texture of his palm against mine. And a shiver, very unlike the hungry pull I'm used to, tingles from my fingertips all the way up my arm.

"You look…different," Pietro says to me, but all I can do is stare at our hands.

_Why isn't he passed out on the floor? Why don't I have super speed? How come I can't feel the pull?_

I yank my hand back, and stare at him horrified. In the moon light he looks…surreal, standing there like some sort of fallen angel. His white hair gleaming in an ethereal way as the wind blows it's (for once), un-gelled locks around his face. He's staring back at me, wearing only a black hoodie and the schools running shorts, and his expression is unreadable.

"How?" I ask, and I honestly want to know. We'd been holding hands long enough for me to kill him. He opens his mouth to speak, but now I just find myself running away.

**Next Chapter: "Hear Me"**

Sorry it took so long for the update! I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment with school. Taking six classes, working at as a manager at a retail store (blah), an internship, and studying for the LSAT and GMAT tests keep me a little busy. Fortunately I got a new job that pays more and gives me fewer hours so I'll have more time to write and won't have such a big lag time in between chapters!

Also, I _love_ reviews. I really appreciate all good and bad opinions, but getting no reviews **ticks me off**. Even just a good/ bad job makes me happy (although with the later I like to find out why). I encourage you to tell me exactly what you liked or disliked from my chapters or the overall story, because that is what encourages me to get my new chapters out to you!

For all of you who cared to review last time, you are very sweet and I appreciate it a lot!


	3. Hear Me

**Chapter 3 –** _Hear Me_

_Hear me, I'm cryin' out! I'm ready now! Turn my world upside down. Find me. _

_I'm lost inside the crowd…  
_

I've been skipping out on tutoring ever since the day Pietro and I touched. At first I was hiding out of pure fear of… I'm actually not quite sure. But now my trepidation has morphed into rage.

Honestly, at first I thought that maybe I could touch anyone. For some reason I wanted to believe that my powers had mutated to a heightened state in which I could finally control them. One quick tap on Kitty's shoulder totally knocked that idea out the window and me through the floor of the institute. Phasing powers really aren't all that grand.

After that experiment-gone-wrong, I made myself believe that maybe it was the time of night that affected my abilities. I mean after harmless years of pretending I could touch at that hour, would it be that farfetched for it to actually happen?

…I was blue for four days after pouncing Kurt at almost a quarter past three. He was sneaking an early morning snack in the kitchen when he met my wrath.

After that, I was at a loss…and grounded. I have no explanations to myself or to my housemates for my bizarre behavior. I feel weak. The need to touch has stirred desire in my gut, and the obsession is driving me insane. Even more so now that I have come to the conclusion that it may be only Pietro who can quench it. Sick, sick irony, why must you always come into my life?

**At School**

"I'll speak with you after class," Mrs. Calendar says, her lips pursing tightly as she hands me my latest failing grade. A forty-two. I'm impressed with myself.

I just nod my head meekly as she gives me another stern 'no nonsense' look and struts down the line handing back assignments.

The class reaches its end a bit too quick for my liking and now I'm standing by her desk awkwardly, praying that she won't start her lecture until the last of the stragglers are gone. No such luck of course.

Turning from the dry erase board, Mrs. Calendar towers condescendingly above me in her black stacked heels. She places the black marker she was writing with on her obnoxiously orderly desk, and flicks a freshly bleached strand of hair from her face.

"Rogue," she says tiredly, "Why haven't you been going to tutoring?"

"What makes yah think Ah haven't?" I ask, defensively stuffing my test securely in the front pocket of my hoodie.

"Your grades speak for you," Mrs. Calendar says, pointing a slim finger at the traitorous paper peeking out from the corner of my hoodie.

"And I've spoken with Pietro. He told me you've missed several sessions." I just stare at her so she continues, "Rogue, at least out of common courtesy tell him you're not going! The poor boy is wasting his lunch hour to help you."

I frown, and play with the loops on my belt. "Ah'm sorry," I say. But I can tell Mrs. Calendar knows I don't care.

She crosses her legs and leans toward me, "If you fail you will have to repeat this class next semester. Is that what you want?"

_Hell. No._

"No," I say, shuffling away from her.

"Than get your act together," Mrs. Calendar sniffs at me, opening a side drawer on her desk. She pulls out a math packet and hands it to me saying, "Take this to Pietro **today**. He'll help you with it. Its extra credit so I don't have to see you in here next semester. "

_Oh, come on…_

"Yes Ma'am" I reply, taking her oh-so-clever ditto packet and picking up my discarded messenger bag from the floor.

"Be smart, Rogue!" Mrs. Calendar intones, as I close the door.

* * *

_Math Help_

I feel awkward and slightly vulnerable walking into the small math lab room to be tutored by the only being on earth that can touch me without suffering some dire consequences. Peeking through the narrow glass window on the door I see Pietro. He's sitting at the far right of the classroom. His head lies on his crossed arms, which rest atop our assigned "student help" desk. A pre calc book is open on the desk and surrounding it is a crumpled brown bag that has crumbs sprinkled around it.

I swallow guiltily. Had he actually kept coming to all the sessions?

I feel a bit selfish at the thought but then I remember that it's just Pietro, so I get over it and open the door.

"Ah'm here!" I announce, slamming the door with a bang. Pietro jerks up frantically, pushing his calculus text off the table as he flails his right arm spastically.

"Shit!" he says, starring at me with bewildered eyes. It's weird but I've never seen him look so unguarded before, and it's a bit attractive. He slumps in relief at seeing me, and absentmindedly brushes a hand through his hair. That simple movement brings a dusting of blush across my cheeks. Obviously this touching thing has already ruined me.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asks, as I walk toward the desk.

"Around," I say, spitefully. But honestly, I'm just trying to keep my nerves down by being a bitch.

"Yea well I've been bored out of my mind waiting for the chance to talk to you!" he growls at me.

"About what, Speedy?" I say, playing dumb as I drop my bag on the table, and go to grab a random chair from another desk.

"About this!" he snaps. And before I know it his hand rests on mine, atop the metal chair I had just been pulling over.

I know it's stupid, and I know that I already know that he can touch me but…him touching me again feels exactly like the first time.

The rush of conflicting emotions well inside me again and as I decide to make a move for the door his hand locks around my wrist.

"Don't you want to know?" he asks, looking as stunned as I feel. His grip on me is taut and uncomfortable.

"Know what?" I'm asking now, feeling slightly anxious.

"Why you and I can touch? I thought that you couldn't do shit like that? You got that freaky vacuum power."

His lack of tact makes me relax for some reason, and I shake off his grip.

"Yeah, Ah guess." I answer, copying his trademark move by sweeping a hand through my hair. Pietro gives me a weird look, which I feel inclined to ignore.

"You guess?" he says, arching a white eyebrow, "This shit is so sweet. I could like-"

He stops when he notices my expression. "Could like what?" I ask crossly. A series of fill-in-the-blank responses run through my head as I watch him try to rephrase his sentence.

"_I could like, __beat the shit out of you.__"_

"_I could like, __rape you.__"_

"_I could like, __abduct you and hand you over to my terrorist father!__"_

"I don't know," he finishes, after my horrific train of thought. "It's just sweet."

Rightttt, like that's going to fly after what I was just thinking.

"What?" I ask him, annoyed. "How is this _sweet_?"

"It just is, okay? Jeez Rogue, chill the fuck out!" he says, defensively. He fidgets in place, in what I can only guess is nervousness. I have that effect on people.

After a moment's pause, where I'm just staring at him with my arms crossed, he says, "Want me to kiss you?"

"Wha- what??" I sputter out, "What makes yah think Ah want that!"

I can feel my face growing hot, and I'm more than uncomfortable now. Leave it to Pietro to say something so out of the blue and totally out of the question.

Pietro shrugs, "I just figured I could give you what you want. You know, since I'm available now?" he winks, leaning toward me suggestively.

Ah yes, the Pietro all the girls know and love at this school and that I thankfully never had to endure…until now that is.

"Get ovah yahself," I say, pushing a hand against his chest to stop him, "Just 'cause Ah can touch yah doesn't mean Ah'll be all ovah yah."

"I'm the _only_ person you can touch," he corrects, cockily removing my palm from his breast.

"So?" I say darkly, but his words are like a knife in the gut.

"Soooo," he sings, leaning a breath away from my right ear, "Think about it and tell me if you want more." Before I can ask what he means, he finishes with a quick kiss on my cheek and shoulders past me to the door.

I want to act like myself and say something nasty and spiteful…I want, no more like need to get the last word and make him _know _that he hasn't gotten to me, and that I _won't _be thinking about it.

But I can't. Because he _has_ gotten to me, I will be thinking about it, and…his lips were just too damn soft.

So unfortunately instead of acting like my usual obstinate self, I'm frozen in place like an idiot. And I know that I must have the dumbest deer in the headlights expression engulfing my entire physic, as he calls by the door with an overly cocky jerk of the head, "Meet me tonight, if you're up for it."

And then the door shuts and I'm all alone.

* * *

**-Institute -**

School was disconcerting to say the least. Not only am I failing my math class but my math tutor is propositioning me and I'm actually thinking about it…

I feel very unsettled right now. I'm shifting through books in the Institutes decently stocked library, looking for any sort of novel to distract me. So far nothing's interesting to me, but the persistent urge to vomit up the two bites of lunch I actually did eat today, makes me keep searching. Usually I make a beeline for the tiny but amply supplied romance novel section, in an attempt to immerse myself in a mental picture of a lover's touch. But considering my current dilemma I'd rather not think about that.

_Pietro, Pietro, PIETRO._

These past couple of days I feel as though I've thought about nothing but him. And now this offer is on the table. This opportunity, which slammed headfirst into me not once, but twice, is willing to give me _experience. _But I just can't figure out which option would be worse. And believe me, I can tell from now that neither will end well.

On the one hand I could go. Pietro and I could engage in a level of sexual exploration that I have only read about in books with Fabio's muscular build plastered on the cover. I could knowthe feeling of not just a man but _human_ contact once again.

I could make up for years past where I felt the need to ostracize myself from humanity, for the benefit of a society which hates me. I could have secret rendezvous with the 'enemy', wild thrusts in the dark of night, moonlight skinny dips, and share in forbidden kisses.

But at what expense? Possibly becoming too attached? Becoming addicted to the contact and reliant on _his _touch. Being needy and dependant and resentful for the fact that it's only him that I can touch and there can be no other options. And then, undoubtedly being cast aside, rejected, left behind without a thought or second glance the day he decides there's something better.

Or, I could not go. I could refrain from my nightly walks. Burrow myself more deeply into my reclusive ways. Protect my heart and my sanity and remain _safe_. Reject him, and his outlandish ideas of a physical relationship, before he can reject me and (what I know) will only develop into something I do not wish to feel.

But then what? Live with the what-if's? That's just a different kind of insanity. To remain numb just as the ice has begun to melt, and lose my humanity further. What then will I become? The shell of a shell… I'll be nothing.

I feel the book I've been holding slip from my grasp. It lands on my foot with a painful thud. I'm wearing the fuzzy pink and blue socks Kurt gave me for Christmas so the ache is not too bad as I place the book back on the shelf.

I feel like leaving this solitude. No more libraries for a while. Sometimes even loners get lonely I guess. And for once I feel in over my head. Too deep in a situation I have no knowledge about, and I need…advice.

God help me but I cannot believe what I'm about to do.

**-Bedroom-**

It would be overdramatic to say that I was avoiding stepping into my own bedroom, or that my heart skipped a nervous beat as I heard Kitty butcher a relatively decent song from outside the door. But I will admit to taking a deep breath to mentally prepare myself for the carnage I'm about to unleash on my personal life.

I hesitate momentarily before I crack open the door. Kitty abruptly stops singing, and plops on her bed in flourish. Her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

_Does she honestly think I care by now?_

She eye's me warily as I walk over and take a seat at the edge of my bed. Now we're facing each other. I'm vaguely aware of the radio playing some random mainstream pop song while I clear my throat.

There's a moment of awkward eye contact, than, "Is there something you, like, want?" Kitty asks, sitting Indian style on her rumpled cornflower comforter. She looks slightly annoyed and mildly curious, as she watches me fidget in place. This moment is being made even weirder just because this if the first time we've actually spoken to each other since our little tiff.

Oh well, might as well cut to the chase.

"Ah need yah help." I begin, and I see Kitty grimace. She's probably thinking I want some outlandish favor from a convenient frenemy.

"Go on…" she says, sitting up straighter.

"There's this guy-"

"Ah! O.M.G.! Rogueeee!" Kitty screeches excitedly, not giving me a chance to finish.

"_A guy? Is he cute? How did you meet? Does he go to our school? Would I know him?" _She interrogates, without taking a breath. Her fingers are bunching her bedspread in unnecessary excitement and anticipation.

"Um," I cough, shifting uncomfortably. This was such a mistake.

"It's not like that," I answer, trying to get rid of the goo goo eyes she's sending my way. How easily grudges can be forgotten when boys are involved…

"Like you tots have to dish! I want to know the 411 like A.S.A.P.!" She went on, obviously not listening.

"I hate when you talk like that," I grumble.

Kitty ignores the comment, saying, "Wait! Did you like tell him about your powers because-"

"Kitty!" I growl, raising my voice to warning level. The tone must have made something click it her tiny pea brain because she's finally shut up and is staring at me wide eyed.

"About mah powers," I say, taking the edge off my voice, "That's what Ah've been tryin' to tell yah. We kinda accidently touched and-"

"You killed him!" Kitty cries in dismay. She's giving me a scathing look I can't really describe. It's something between panic, worry, and absolute horror.

I'd roll my eyes but I'm getting a little annoyed at being interrupted.

"No, and will yah shut up." I say, smacking my hand down on my bed for emphasis.

"Heh, sorry," Kitty says, sheepishly.

There's another awkward pause of us just looking at each other, then, "Okay so dish!"

This time I do roll my eyes. "Ah don't know," I say skeptically, "Yah've been known for yah loose tongue. Ah don't know if Ah can trust yah."

"ME!" Kitty exclaims aghast, holding an overdramatic hand to her chest. "Who's been saying that about me?"

What's funny here is that she actually seems insulted…

I give her a deadpan look and she sticks out her right pinky. "Pinky _swear_ on my grandmother's grave! I, like, won't say a word!" she says to me.

"Both yah grandmotha's are alive," I reply unimpressed.

"Rogueee," she whines, "Pleaseee. I promise! I pinky promise!"

"Ugh, fine." I say, hooking my pinky with hers. I know this may seem juvenile but the one way to keep Kitty silent is via pinky promises.

Sucking in a breath, I look at Kitty. She's practically bubbling with suppressed anticipation. Her big brown eyes are glittering with the knowledge of expected gossip. I cannot believe I've been reduced to confiding in _this_. It just goes to show that I really have no friends.

"Ah met a boy…we touched on accident one night," I explain, pausing in case I'm interrupted again. When Kitty makes no move to cut me off, I continue.

"An' nothin' happened." I finish, exhaling slowly.

I can see her squinting at me in confusion. It's interesting, but for once in her life she's not wearing makeup in the house. She looks more tired that way. But I digress…

"Like…" Kitty says, "What do you mean?"

I sigh. "Ah mean," I say, "Mah powers didn't work. There was no pull. He didn't pass out or anythin'."

This time Kitty is unsettlingly quiet as she stares at me. "So you're saying nothing, like, happened?" she questions dumbly.

_Ughhhh._

"Yes. Ah already said that," I grumble.

"So, like, what's the problem?" Kitty asks me.

"The problem is he can touch meh," I snap, flinging myself further on my bed. I bump against the headboard with a thud and look at Kitty crossly.

I see her frown from the corner of my eye. Than her eyes light up as if she's come to some great conclusion.

"Oh my God! Rogue! But isn't that just awesome for you?!" Kitty exclaims, throwing her hands over her mouth as she giggles with girlish glee.

I roll my eyes for the nth time tonight. "No." I respond, clicking my tongue with disapproval.

"Um, like, why?" Kitty asks, "Don't you like each other?"

"Hell no." I respond, pinking at that thought.

Me and Pietro? I can't even begin to imagine anything remotely romantic ever developing between us. The twisted carnal attraction between the two of us is barely fathomable as it is.

"Okayyy," Kitty sings, with a slightly annoyed look on her face. "If you don't, like, like him, than I still don't get your issue?"

I pink even further now. This is the part where I'm supposed to confess to Kitty the reason for my impromptu "help" session. How embarrassing…

"…he wants tah mmHm with meh," I mumble, looking down.

"He wants what?" Kitty asks, she leans toward me and I flinch at the brash and unforgiving volume of her voice.

"He wants tah have _sex_ with mah," I state more clearly.

And now my head is buried in my pillow as I hear the awaited gasp of my very predictable and overly dramatic roomie.

"Like, Rogue!" Kitty exclaims shrilly, "You're not going to do _that, _are you?!"

From the refuge of my pillow I peek up at Kitty and say, "Ah was thinkin' about it."

My response provokes an instantaneous reaction of horrification on her dimpled face, and I'm squishing desperately into my bed sheets while avoiding eye contact.

"Rogue, you can't just like do _that_ with the first guy that offers!" Kitty chastises me, "you have to wait until, like, that one special guy who-"

"—who what?" I cut her off. My eyes are blazing and my face is flushed in a mixture of resentment and embarrassment.

_She just doesn't get it. No one does…_

"There is no _one special guy_ for mah," I hiss, pathetically. And I see the light finally turn on in that simplistic little head as Kitty's eyes widen in realization.

_Yea that's right bitch. I __**can't **__touch people. _

"This is mah one shot," I continue listlessly. "Would Ah be horrible to take it?" I ask, finally meeting Kitty's sympathetic eyes.

I feel a flash of annoyance at the sight of her pity. I don't need an empathetic friend right now (or ever), I need advice.

"I think…" Kitty says, after a few moments of contemplative silence, "that if I were you I would…"

"_Would?_" I urge, slightly tense at her response. Right now I really don't know which answer I would be more relieved to hear.

Kitty gives me a helpless look before exclaiming, "I don't, like, know Rogue!" she huffs for a bit, throwing her arms in the air in exaggerated frustration.

"I can't, like, make this decision for you! It's too huge!"

At my look of despair, Kitty's shoulders slump. "All I can tell you," She says in a defeated tone, "is to think about what would keep you up more at night. If you ask yourself that, you'll have your answer."

I nod my head at her, a bit disappointed but still slightly relieved at the vague directional advice.

We share a smile and I'm once again aware of the radio playing bad pop music in the background.

* * *

I heave a deep breath. It's quarter to three and I've made my final decision. Slipping out of bed I'm careful not to wake Kitty as I sneak to our closet.

As I slide open the mirrored door I've come to realize I have no idea what to wear in this kind of situation. Usually I just pick the first most revealing thing I dare to put on with my…condition. But tonight is different, and I don't want to go out looking like a two bit whore. Still, I refuse to look like my normal prudish self.

"Wear a dress." A voice says, and I jump. I look over at Kitty's bed and she's sitting up, staring at me with sleepy brown eyes.

"Right…" I reply, uneasily shifting through clothes.

There's a soft padding of feet and within another few seconds Kitty is standing next to me in what looks like a constricting pale pink tank and blue plaid boy shorts. Her pajama's are very unlike my grandma grey cotton conservative two piece set, which sags on my body like it was meant for Hank.

She elbows me to the side a little so she can aid my search. In reality though, I've completely stopped looking. I think I'll leave her to create my ideal outfit because God knows I can't.

Kitty pulls out a short pale pink thick strap dress and presses it against me.

"This would look nice," she intones, with a decisive nod of the head. Then, "Try it on."

Now I'm reluctantly obeying her request and stripping down to my unmentionables just try on a ridiculously girly box cut dress.

Starring at the closet door mirrors I say, "This looks retarded on meh."

Kitty gasps. "Rogue you look, like, totally stellar! I don't even know what you're talking about! I am _so_ jealous, you, like, look better than me in it!"

_Ugh, standard girlfriend pep talk. Like that's what I need…_

"Are yah sure?" I ask, playing into the praise against my better judgment. My hands are playing with the hem of the dress, which ends a couple inches above my knee. I feel absolutely uncomfortable right now.

"Positive!" Kitty sings, pushing me over to our desk (aka her personal vanity table).

"What are yah doing?" I ask. I'm anxiously looking at the time. Its three o'clock now and I really should have left already.

"Make up time," Kitty says, "You weren't expecting to go all barefaced now where you?"

At my blank look Kitty sighs, "Listen Rogue," she says, "No matter what, this is like your first official date _ever._ You have to look nice and blow this guy away!"

She plays with my hair a bit, pinning it up random places but I shake her off. "Leave mah hair." I grumble. I know from personal experience there's no helping it. It's in the awkward stages of growing out right now and never looks nice…

Kitty shrugs absently, applying clear gloss to my lips. "The trick is," she advises, "Is just to put as much on to make it show. Too much will make a guy not want to come, like, near you. No one wants to kiss gooey lips!" she laughs.

I don't say anything because I'm almost certain I'm having a minor anxiety attack as I watch Kitty paint blush on my cheeks like a china doll.

"Just remember, less is better!" she continues, mindlessly. And I can tell she's thrilled to be educating me on the art of makeup.

"I mean really Rogue," she chastises, "You cake so much makeup on! Sometimes it looks like if you stay in the sun too long your face will crack apart!"

At my venomous look, Kitty backs down. "But that's your personal style," she amends, smoothly evading my wrath.

"Still, doesn't help to take tips though!" Kitty smiles, taking out bronze eye shadow.

_Oh God, here we go_. "Is this really all necessary?" I ask, feeling like a beauty pageant contestant with the way I was being fussed over.

"Rogue!" Kitty says, "Do you want to blow him away or not?!"

I roll my eyes. If she keeps using that phrase, I will have to hurt her soon.

"Ah'm kinda on ah time limit," I explain, prying her fingers off my head. …Didn't I tell her to leave my hair alone?

"When are you supposed to be there?" She asks me, persistently shoving my hands away from my mutilated head and spraying it with God knows what.

"Now," I deadpan, hoping for some sort of mercy from my roommate.

Kitty winks at me. "It's good to make 'em wait!" she shrugs, brushing my bangs back, and clipping them into that notoriously trend diseased hump that everyone seems to be sporting lately.

"Take it down." I demand, with no room for argument and Kitty pouts, but obeys reluctantly.

"Who is this guy anyway?" she asks me, "I mean, you like, never told me?"

…I was hoping it wouldn't come to that question.

Feeling skittish I stand up abruptly and place a grease ridden lock of hair behind my ear, "Ah'd rather not say…" I reply nervously.

Kitty smiles supportively, "Is it because he's fugly?" she asks in an annoyingly understanding tone.

[Insert blank stare here]

"Ah'm going," I say, not even justifying the question with a response.

* * *

3:25 a.m.

It is three twenty-five in the morning and I feel like a _fool. _I am standing outside by the same path in the park where Pietro and I had bumped on the previous night with no sign that he had been here or was coming at all…The chances of a speed demon like him being late are really rare. And so it is highly likely that right now, as I stand in my slightly washed-out pink dress, in ridiculously nice shoes, with my hair _actually_ brushed, that I was duped and am currently being stood up.

I feel like such an idiot. My cheeks are flushing with a mixture of rage, anxiety, and embarrassment as I begin to turn off the pebbled pathway. I can vaguely see the distinctive silhouette of the institute against the turpentine sky, but the walk that I used to thrive off of now feels suppressing and uncomfortable.

I made it three steps when a voice hidden by the nearby foliage called out. "I guess I've made you suffer enough!"

Jerking around spastically, I instinctively got into the standard defensive form taught at the institute, preparing for my attacker. Upon seeing Pietro, my fists drop down to my sides. That _bastard._

"How long have yah been hur?" I question, annoyed. I cross my arms and stand tense and self-conscious, as I drink in his laidback form. He's leaning against a particularly large oak tree, wearing what I suppose he believes to be an appropriately seductive outfit for the evening, and even has the audacity to have the moon shining on his face in just the right angles.

"About ten, fifteen minutes," he quips, nonchalantly. And the urge to strangle him heightens even more as he continues with, "before you even got here," a smirk plays on his lips, as I swallow the lump of irritation in my throat.

"Do yah think this is funny?" I growl, stalking up to him. Honestly I'm mortified beyond belief. Thinking back, I did ridiculously girlish and out of character things while waiting from him to arrive. Things such as, re-applying the lip gloss Kitty gave me, brushing out my hair again, and even attempting a sexy facial expression in a small compact mirror I had tucked in my purse... A pink hue rises to my cheeks as I think about it.

Pietro laughs in reply, tilting his head back and clapping his hands together with mirth. "Yeah, kind of," he says with a humor filled smile. And all I can honestly think is: _is he really this dumb? Or is this just because he really does not give two shits about me?_

Feeling enraged I take a step back, clench my fists, and turn around. _Walk away Marie_, I tell myself, it just isn't worth it, nothings worth it anymore. Life for me has been nothing but a self deprecating and never ending bout of exclusion, solitude, and depression. Disappointment is only to be expected, and heart break? Unanticipated, yet predictable.

Before I get the chance to protest I'm shoved abruptly unto the scabby bark of a pine tree, my pasty white arms held steadfastly above me by Pietro's lightly calloused hands.

I feel like crying, but like always my eyes are dry as I glare at his grayish blue one's glinting at me through the darkness.

"_Where do you think you're going?" _comes a feral growl, seeping through his lips like an unsavory hiss. His back is arched as he pushes me more firmly into my temporary prison, and I can feel him lick his lips in slight indecision.

Still, I'm ashamed to admit that I can't even focus on the immediate fear I feel, or how imminent and real the danger that I could be in really is. All my mind can comprehend is how much softer his palms feel against my skin then I would have ever thought to imagine, and how nice it is to have a person's lips just a breath away from my earlobe with no fear or hesitation.

I let out a whimper, and like me, Pietro is aware that this is my first real sign of vulnerability. I know this because of the sly smile that etches unto his face before he forces his lips on top of mine for my first _real_ kiss.

A kiss that was nothing like the decade's worth of romance novels that I've been devouring over my seventeen years of life. It was not soft, sweet, or intimately breathtaking…He wasn't holding me in his arms tenderly, or dipping me romantically during an impressively talented and explosive meeting of our lips.

In fact, his method of making out, not surprisingly mirrors his nature, quick paced and unforgiving. With a practiced tongue he pries my mouth open skillfully. His lips feel rough and chapped, and his technique, overpowering and aggressive.

Then after what seems like an hour of him attacking me orally, there is a sudden yet subtle shift in his demeanor and I feel his body cave into mine. Now my heart is speeding up and I'm sure he can feel it, because I can feel the steady drumming of his against my breast.

My breathe hitches as he lets me up for air then plunges back down for softer, sweeter pecks. Pecks that start on my lips and trail to my collar bone, my cheeks, my nose, anywhere within reachable distance from my mouth.

As he continues his ministrations I feel an unfamiliar stirring in my gut that I both want to act on and run from at the same time. Feeling panicked, I finally find the strength to push Pietro off of me.

"Sto-stop!" I stutter hesitantly, and I know my eyes are wide, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen. I hear him groan in protest and suppressed lust.

"_What_?" Pietro whines, still gripping my arms.

"Don't yah think we're going a bit fast?" I mumble out hesitantly. Dodging his piercing gaze, which I'm sure, is riddled with impatience.

"Um yeah, that's kind of the point of tonight isn't it?" He asks me, sounding flippant and annoyed.

I look down, feeling embarrassment. I know he has a point, but I'm also aware that I can't possibly commit to the implications of what this night was supposed to be. Just one kiss has me reeling and feeling unprepared, inadequate, insecure…the list goes on and on.

I hear him sigh, and I feel frustrated with myself as I watch my opportunity slip through my clenched, pale fingers. _Way to go Rogue. Way. To. Go._

Just as I open my mouth to take back the deal that had been monopolizing my mind all day long, Pietro's voice halts me.

"Okay so we'll take it slow, yea?" He says, brushing back his hair and actually _smiling_ at me. His lips, slightly pinkish, curve up at the ends to form an incredibly alluring smile, and I feel a blush illuminate my cheeks.

"Huh?" I ask stupidly. The surprise of his conceding so easily to my request has caught me off guard.

"A fuck's a fuck, right?" he states crudely, "Whether I get it now or later doesn't matter. I still get it."

_So much for being courteous, I_ sigh to myself_. _In my rush of hormonal adrenaline I almost forgot that the roughly 5'9" boy in front of me is a lackadaisical, spoilt, and egotistical asshole. Subtly is not in his vocabulary and manners are not heredity to any member even remotely connected to his gene pool.

I feel as though I should feel anger at his words but honestly, the reason we'd both come to night _was _for that. So any agreement dies on my tongue.

Feeling stupid, I ask, "So what now?"

The look I receive tells me that he knows exactly what we can do now.

* * *

Ahh I'm sure you guys want to kill me for taking so long but I have an explanation! (Actually several). First I got a fever and could not function, then I had extremely stressful midterms, then I lost the USB that I had my story on with more than half the chapter on it! …I found it days later in my school computer lab, because some wonderful man handed it in!

Now even with copious amounts of projects, me and my editor finally merged our schedules for about an hour and a half and I completed the chapter! SO I hope you liked it, I will try to get the next chapter out by mid December the latest, because schools ending on the tenth of next month and I'll be free from responsibility until a little after new year's!

**REVIEW and I will work harder to get the chapter out! That's the only reason this chapter came out now…my guilt because of your wonderful comments lol. **

I felt so bad! I was going to wait until the end of this semester next month to even attempt at finishing this chapter because I'm so busying working, interning, having to actually go to classes, etc. But I couldn't do it! So please leave comments.

Tell me what you think and any suggestions you may have the story would be very much appreciated! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

-my monologue is complete. Until next time!

Thanks for reading!


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